Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, #5) - K.F. Breene Page 0,47

death. They had been right about this man’s range. It was less than half of Cayan and Shanti’s. Cayan was beyond his influence and made sure Shanti rode as close to the middle of the line of fighters as possible. He was too overprotective for his own good.

They’d been at this for a couple hours now, Sanders doing most of the talking. So far, they’d gotten very little out of the man, but what they had gotten was informative.

“So what’s next, then?” Sanders asked. “You hang out with us, hoping for the best, until you can escape and go back to a tyrant who made you look like a cut-up slab of meat?”

The man gritted his teeth. “I have never killed anyone. I make it so no one else can kill with the mind power.”

Sanders braced a hand on his knee in indignation. “Do you actually believe this horse shit?” He shook his head and looked toward the front. “For the first time, I wish that twin of Shanti’s could use his mind magic.”

“You killed the men I was with. How are you any better than the so-called tyrant?” The man’s hand flexed and released.

“Or maybe you’re just dumb.” Sanders’ face went red, an early indication that he was close to losing his temper. “They were trying to kill us, you shit for brains. That’s what it means when scary people sneak up on sleeping people in the middle of the night with a big sword. What would you have done in our shoes? Oh, that’s right, you would’ve rolled over, played dead, and then sashayed right into the enemy’s hands so you could help rule the land.”

The man swung his eyes toward Sanders. His whole upper body flexed, showing an array of muscle along his back definitely denoting the ability to fight. His hands were tightly clenched, clearly fighting his own temper. Shanti couldn’t see either of their faces with this man in the way, but judging by the silence, and the duration of the stare, she bet they were trying to kill each other with their eyes.

“Marc, go get Tomous,” Shanti instructed.

Marc lethargically looked back at her and stared for a moment with dazed, tired eyes. He blinked a couple of times. “Sure. I mean, yes, S’am.” He took a deep breath and turned his horse out of the line before riding to the end.

“You don’t like the truth, huh?” Sanders prodded, anger in his voice.

The man had returned to staring straight ahead, apparently trying to ignore Sanders. Sanders was doing an excellent job of getting under his skin. He was a hard man to shrug off. Poor Junice.

“How long have you been in the army?” Sanders asked.

Silence answered Sanders’ question.

“How many kids did the Graygual kill? Or don’t you care about trivial things like that?”

Muscles flared and fired along the man’s shoulders. The veins in his neck stood out. He was struggling with something, and Shanti bet it was memories.

“Yes, S’am?” Tomous moved his horse in behind her. There wasn’t enough room for more than two horses and one Bloody Bastard to walk side by side on the road. The Bastard didn’t like other animals in his horse bubble.

“Our friend here was taken down by the Graygual, similar to you.” She jerked her head at the man. “Similar to me.”

The man jerked as if he had been poked in the backside. He didn’t turn her way.

“I wondered, if you were chopped down, what would make you join their army?” Shanti asked, always watching the man. Trying to learn from his body and reactions what he wouldn’t reveal with his voice.

Tomous took a moment before he answered. When he did, his voice was dripping with a hatred so intense that Shanti barely kept herself from looking back. “Never. There is nothing that would make me fight by their side. Nothing that would make me help them destroy someone else’s life as they destroyed mine. Anyone who does should die a slow and agonizing death. I’m on hand if you need that done, S’am. Let me know. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty to rid the land of filth like this.”

“You’ll have to get in line, Tomous, but thank you.” Shanti saw the man’s shoulders droop just a bit. A moment later, his muscles flared again. He’d had a moment of sadness, she’d bet on it. He was trying to stay hard and strong, but he had a war of emotion that he could barely contain or cover